


Labor Day

by magnoliatattoo (theladyinthecape)



Series: Marital Bliss [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cesarean Section, Childbirth, Detailed Scene of Childbirth, Emergency c-section, F/M, Fetal Stress, Fluff and Smut, Labor and Delivery, Pregnancy, Smut, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 10:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7973374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyinthecape/pseuds/magnoliatattoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle goes into labor, and things don't go quite as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble, but when do things go as planned through labor and delivery?
> 
> Please note this is a fairly detailed depiction of childbirth. Nothing too graphic, but if childbirth, pregnancy or babies do not interest you, you probably won't like this.
> 
> Thank you to MarieQuiteContrarie for being a wonderful beta and friend. :)

“AAAAAAAAAGH!” Belle screamed as one of the contractions, stronger, brought her to her knees.

“Oh, hurry, Granny!” Belle panted as she waited in a booth by the door and Granny scrambled to grab the hospital bag.

“Okay, honey,” Granny said, her was voice calm and steady, and it comforted Belle some to know that she wasn’t completely alone, and that Granny had experience with childbirth, (she was a Granny, after all) however long ago that was. “I’ve got the bag. Can you walk?”

Belle nodded, breathing deeply, trying to work through the last seconds of the contraction. Intellectually, she knew they were supposed to hurt. _Nobody told me they would hurt this bad_ , she thought, as she hobbled to the car.

Granny opened the door for her, lowered her in by her arms, and helped her swing her feet into the car. She started her station wagon and pulled out of the alley behind the diner, headed for Storybrooke General. The hospital wasn’t far, but the passenger was a woman in labor with her first child, so it felt like forever before they pulled to the patient drop-off of the Women’s Health ward. A nurse was there to meet them, and helped Belle into a wheelchair. Luckily, Belle’s contractions had started slowly, and her water had not broken yet, and Granny had a chance to call ahead before bringing the mother-to-be to delivery.

Belle had been living at Granny’s for the past six months. The events that had taken place early in her pregnancy had been too overwhelming, too emotional, and Belle had felt that she needed a break from everything in Storybrooke. She had become a bit of a recluse, burrowing into a small but quaint room at the bed and breakfast. Her days had dragged by - she had done little more than open the library daily from 8 to 5, dined by herself most evenings, and prepared for the baby before retiring each night. Belle was grateful for the routine, but the lack of drama allowed her too much time to think, and too many nights had been spent crying herself to sleep, imagining what could have been, and worrying about what would be.

Luckily, she had Granny. Granny had been there to make sure Belle ate, even leaving a tray of soup and sandwiches outside her door on those nights Belle was too melancholy to eat a proper dinner. Yes, she should be so thankful for Granny, and she was, but she couldn’t help but wish Rumplestiltskin was there with her. She knew she should call him. She had promised him that she would. She just couldn’t yet—shame and anger and sadness kept her from dialing his number, and…

“Oh! AAAAAAAAGH!” Belle screamed as another contraction hit, not that anyone was there to hear her. The nurses had been buzzing about, hooking up her IV, strapping the monitors over her bulging belly, but she was alone now. Alone, except for the baby, and quite frankly, she wanted someone to distract her from the _baby and the contractions and the uncomfortableness. Right. Fucking. Now_. Just as she was about to press the button on the bed to buzz the nurses’ station and _where the fuck are those nurses I’m about to have a goddamned baby_ , Dr. Whale breezed into the delivery room, carefree and relaxed, like Belle wasn’t about to push a human being out of her vagina.

“Hi Belle,” Dr. Whale smiled. “How do you feel?” Belle glared at him, and for a moment, believed that telepathy was a very real thing.

“Okay,” Dr. Whale said, sensing the distress of the young mother. “So, Belle, your contractions are regular and five and a half minutes apart,” he said, choosing the business-like approach rather than the casual one. “I’m going to need to see how far you are dilated.”

Belle took a long breath. _This is gonna be fun_.

“Okay,” she said, feebly, resigned to the complete lack of dignity she was about to endure. Placing her feet in the stirrups as Dr. Whale pulled on gloves, Belle felt a tear start to fall down her cheek.

“Where is Granny?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Would you like her here before I begin?” Dr. Whale asked.

“No… that’s okay. But could you find her for me when you are done?”

Dr. Whale pulled off a glove and pressed the call button by the door. “Hey, Astrid,” he called out, “could you send Granny Lucas to room 414? Thanks,” he said, going back to work, calm and detached, and Belle felt even more alone than she had five minutes earlier.

 _Do not cry. Do not cry_. Belle was nothing if not determined, and she was determined to make the birth of her child a happy occasion, even if she was alone, even if she had to do it by herself, even if it meant swallowing every last sob.

“Belle, you are only dilated a centimeter,” Dr. Whale spoke after he began the exam. “And your water has not broken, so I am going to need to do that for you.”

Belle’s eyes blew wide.

“Why?”

“You aren’t progressing like I would want you too with contractions this close together. It’s not uncommon. I just want to make sure your body is moving at the same rate as the baby,” he explained, a faint glint of concern in his eyes.

“Okay,” she agreed, feebly, again, feeling lost and out of control. Luckily, Granny walked into the room just as Belle began to worry, and the older woman’s presence calmed her, and as she relaxed, she felt Dr. Whale begin to -

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Belle screamed as Dr. Whale stripped her membranes to break the amniotic sac.

“It’s okay, honey, it’s okay,” Granny crooned as she wiped Belle’s forehead with a damp cloth from the delivery room bathroom.

“Shhh…” she whispered, calming Belle, soothing her with her voice and the support of one mother to another. Quickly, the doctor pulled back, and Belle felt a trickle of fluid leaking from her body.

“Oh gods, that hurt.” Belle slumped into the pillow, licking her lips and tasting the beads of sweat that gathered on her upper lip.

“Okay, Belle,” Dr. Whale began, “So I’ve broken your water, and the baby has passed meconium,” he said.

“So what…what do I do now?”

“Nothing.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled to assure her. “It is common, however, it does increase your chances for an amniotic infection. And since you are not yet in active labor, I’m going to have to put you on an antibiotic to protect you and the baby,” he said. Dr. Whale smiled in that assured, confident way that doctors often did—aloof, concerned, but not very caring.

“Everything will be fine, Belle,” he said. “Are you in pain? Do you want an epidural?”

“No!” Belle almost shouted. “No, I don’t want any drugs. No drugs, no magic,” Belle said sardonically, as though they were related.

“Okay, Belle, that’s fine and it is completely your choice,” Dr. Whale said, emphatically, wanting her to know that it was her choice, because at this point, it was the only thing really in her control. “But just know, we can’t give an epidural once active labor starts, when you dilate to six centimeters. If we do it then, it could interfere with your ability to push,” he said.

Belle had stopped listening. She was frightened, overwhelmed, and already exhausted. How she was going to push this baby out remained to be seen.

“You are all set for now, Belle,” Dr. Whale said, washing his hands as he prepared to leave. “I’ll have the nurses come to check on you in a little while. Of course, don’t hesitate to buzz them if there is anything you need or want.” Dr. Whale nodded to Granny as he left the room, and Belle let out a big sigh (or was that a sob?) once he was gone. She closed her eyes, laid back on the pillow, and the tears began to flow.

“Do you want me to call him?” Granny asked, pulling Belle out of the moment.

“No,” Belle shook her head. “No, not yet.” _She just…couldn’t. Face him. Not yet_.

“Okay, honey.” Granny smiled at her. “I’m gonna go call Ruby,” she continued. “Do you want me to call your father?”

“Oh no. No, I don’t want him here,” Belle said, and once again fought back tears.

“Okay, love. I’ll be right back.” Granny smiled at her as she left the room, and once again Belle was alone, with only her thoughts and her baby.

Suddenly, a beep started to sound from the fetal monitor, and a nurse rushed into Belle’s room. Nurse Astrid pulled the paper flowing from the monitor out straight, looked it over for a second, and dropped it to the floor as she came over to Belle.

“Turn onto your left side,” she ordered. Nurse Astrid pulled the IV cord out from the bag, rolling the stand around so she could hook it up on Belle’s left. She was rough as she hurried to get Belle situated in this new and completely uncomfortable position.

“The baby’s heart rate is falling. You need to stay on your left side. Do not lie on your back,” she ordered, leaving the room in haste.

Belle was beyond worry at this point. The baby’s heart rate was dropping, and she was alone. A sob broke through, and she cried, loudly, for several seconds as the events of today overwhelmed her. She couldn’t think about the baby now, all she could do was worry, and wonder what to do, and think about _him_. Loud, sorrowful sobs wrecked her body, and she cried into her pillow. Tears of regret mixed with tears of pain, flowing down her cheeks, and then the tears of fright followed, tears of worry for her baby. What was going to happen? Was she going to be okay?

 _Get a grip, Belle,_ she told herself, forcing herself to slow her breathing, and wiped her runny nose on the sleeve of her hospital gown. Taking a deep breath, she tried to get comfortable in the odd position she was in, her left hip falling asleep underneath the weight of the baby, and she had never been more uncomfortable in her life.

“Oh, gods,” she breathed, as Dr. Whale stepped back in the room. He briefly looked over the fetal monitor charts before stepping to Belle’s bed. “Belle, the baby’s heart rate has stabilized,” he said, and Belle almost started to cry again from relief.

“But - “

“What?” Belle asked as panic once again creeped back in.

“We need to put you on oxygen. And I need to do another internal exam, to see if you are progressing.”

Belle sighed, and realized then and there that delivering a baby was not at all the peaceful, happy, relaxed experience she was so certain it was before. Closing her eyes, she scooted to the edge of the bed, ready for the next exam.

“Just get it over with,” she sighed. Belle stared at the ceiling tiles as Dr. Whale examined her, wincing in pain as he pushed against her cervix. He stood up abruptly, pulling off his latex gloves.

“You’re only at three centimeters, now, Belle,” Dr. Whale explained, coming to stand closer to her, as Nurse Astrid helped her roll back to her left. As she tried to settle into a somewhat comfortable position, Dr. Whale kept talking.

“You aren’t progressing as quickly as I would like, and the baby does seem to be in some distress. We have time, but I want you to begin thinking about the possibility of a c-section. Usually, once a woman hits four centimeters dilated, things start to move faster, and we can plan then for a vaginal delivery. But if the baby doesn’t remain stable while your body gets there, we may need to do a c-section,” Dr. Whale explained as Belle struggled to hold back the tears.

She nodded her understanding to the doctor, not trusting herself to speak, and he patted her arm as he turned to leave. Once again alone in the delivery room, Belle calmed herself by taking several long breaths. She knew what she needed to do, and she struggled to find the courage to do it. _Do the brave thing_ , she thought, the words from her past finding meaning once again in the present.

“Rumplestiltskin.” She whispered aloud to the empty room and closed her eyes. She felt the tingle of magic brush over her heated skin, and she opened her eyes to see a plume of red dissolve and her estranged husband standing before her.

“Belle!” Rumplestiltskin cried, rushing to the side of the bed, his hands dancing nervously around the tubes and wires connecting Belle to the various pieces of medical equipment. “Belle, sweetheart, tell me what is happening? Why didn’t you call for me earlier?” Rumple’s face was not one of scorn or contempt—no, when Belle focused on him, she saw nothing but loving concern in his eyes. _Finally_ , she realized, she didn’t have to do this alone. Loud wrenching sobs began to shake her body.

“I...I don’t know, Rumple,” she said. “I’m so scared…” her voice broke into a wail, and Rumplestiltskin hugged her close, as close as he could. Belle buried her face into his chest, tears staining his tie, and he only hugged her closer as she finally, completely, broke down.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s going to be alright,” Rumple crooned into her ear, smoothing her hair back from her sweaty forehead. “Tell mewhat’s happening.”

Belle pulled back from him and used the handkerchief he offered to wipe her eyes and nose. “The baby… she is under stress,” Belle launched into an abbreviated explanation of the events so far, trembling as Rumplestiltskin stroked her hair. As she recounted the events leading up to where they were now, Rumplestiltskin’s eyes darted around the room, taking in as much information as he could, but he never pulled away from her and he continued to stroke her hair, to provide any comfort that he could for his wife and child.

“Belle, sweetheart,” he began as she stopped, “I can fix this, I can make this all go away…”

“No!” Belle cried, reaching up to grab the lapel of his suit jacket. “No magic. Promise me, Rumple, no magic!”

Fresh tears began to well in her eyes, pleading with him to understand. “Please,” she sighed loudly, exhausted. This was the last thing she would ever wish for, to bring her baby into this world without the aid of magic, if that meant that it could come true.

“Okay, Belle. No magic. You have my word,” Rumplestiltskin agreed, understanding how important it was to Belle. He pulled her closer and hugged her tight, trying to give her all the strength he could through touch.

“Will you stay?”

“No army could keep me away,” Rumple smiled, pulling back to look into her eyes, so she could see his honesty and devotion. He knew she didn’t trust him—he had done too much to betray that trust—but he wanted her to know that he was devoted to her wishes, from this day on, until his very last day.

The months of separation had been hard on Rumple. His loneliness and despair, which he never thought he could feel more than when he had lost Bae, had returned with a vengeance since he and Belle had gone their separate ways. Oh, and he was alone. His days were spent in an odd state of solitude, wandering his large house, sometimes opening the shop, sometimes not. He would stop by Granny’s Diner for coffee or pastry once in a while, and exchange pleasantries with those in the town who still would look his way. On those days, the small bit of contact with others only served to remind him how utterly hated he was here, and so he would retreat once again to his castle, where he would sit, and think, and spin.

Yes, pain was Rumple’s true companion now. He had that in spades, and so in all the loneliness and solitude, he never really felt lonely. Spinning helped him forget his pain, if only for moments, and he had so very much to forget.

The loud beep of the fetal monitor pulled him from his reverie. He jumped from where he was kneeling beside Belle, the sound piercing through his thoughts, and he looked around, desperate to fix whatever was happening. The nurses rushed in ahead of Dr. Whale, who strode into the delivery room quickly, surprised to see Rumplestiltskin standing there, and the sight of the Dark One stopped the doctor mid-stride. Turning to face Belle, Dr. Whale began to wring his hands, the presence of Rumpelstiltskin and the stress of the complicated delivery beginning to crack his cool facade.

“Belle, the baby’s heart rate dropped again, and you are running a fever. That means that an infection has set in and it is placing more stress on the baby. She is not stabilizing. I’m sorry Belle, but we need to do a c-section and get the baby out,” Dr. Whale spoke quickly.

Belle felt the bile of panic rise in her throat, and she reached out for Rumplestiltskin. He took her hand, and for a moment they simply looked at each other, silently agreeing to do whatever they had to do for their baby’s health and safety, no matter how much it scared them both, no matter the risks.

Yes, magic could fix this, perhaps, but look where magic had gotten them so far. Alone, and hurting. They would not take that risk with their child. The silent understanding between them gave Belle new strength.

“Okay, Dr. Whale,” she said, calmly, bravely. “Let’s do it. Do the c-section. I’m ready to meet our baby.”

She looked at Rumple as she spoke, and gave his hand a quick squeeze. _Be brave_ , she thought. _You can do this. You have to do this._ She gave Rumple a quick, trembling smile as she let go of his hand, and he rushed back to her side.

“Oh Belle, oh, sweetheart. I’ll never understand how you can be so brave,” he said, smiling through tears that were beginning to slip from the corners of his worried eyes.

Dr. Whale cleared his throat, interrupting the moment.

“Ah, um, Mr. Gold, are you going to accompany Ms. French in the operating room?” he asked.

“He is, and it’s Mrs. Gold,” Belle spoke loudly and plainly. She needed Rumple to understand just as much as the doctor. Dr. Whale’s eyes widened, but he recovered quickly, motioning for a nurse.

“Nurse Emelia, would you take Mr. Gold to change?” He took Rumple by the elbow as he walked behind the nurse to the door. “I am going to prep Belle for the surgery, and you must change your clothes. She will show you where you can store everything,” he said, pushing the Dark One out the door to follow the nurse.

The next minutes were a flurry of activity around Belle. Nurses were poking her, prodding her, moving her this way and that, and with each shift on the bed the monitors would beep and the IV would pull at her skin. Luckily, the nurses were also talking to her—explaining what they were doing, what to expect, and Belle could feel herself begin to shut down, entrusting herself and her baby to their care, and praying to whatever god would listen to get her and the baby through it.

“Where is Rumple? Will I get to see him before?” She asked, quietly. She did not want to burden or distract the team around her, but she needed Rumplestiltskin.

“He’ll meet you in the OR, miss,” one of the nurses said as she rushed around. Belle fell back onto the pillow as the team pulled the bed from the wall and began wheeling her down the hall.

~~~~~

Rumplestiltskin waited.

He was not good at waiting.

He paced in the small anteroom, waiting for a nurse to get him and lead him to the operating room. Only a few minutes had passed since he had changed into scrubs, but it felt like an eternity, just like every day spent away from Belle felt like a lifetime.

“Mr. Gold?” Nurse Astrid opened the door and peeped in. “They are ready for you.”

Rumplestiltskin ran into the room and to Belle’s side. She was seated on a steel table, surrounded by people, the hospital gown open in the back where another doctor was marking the skin along her spine. Dr. Whale took him by the elbow and led him around the table to Belle.

“We have to do the block now. It will cause her to lose feeling from the chest down,” he explained, motioning for Rumple to stand in front of Belle. “You will need to help us brace her.”

Belle looked up and caught his gaze. He was wearing a surgical cap and mask, but there was no mistaking her husband’s warm brown eyes. Rumple pulled her to him, leaned her against his warm chest, and Belle closed her eyes. She felt the icy cold sterilizing wipe against her skin, then the prick of the needle, and the pressure of the injection. Fresh tears sprang forth, and she turned to look up at Rumple, who had gone as white as a ghost, his eyes large, and for a moment Belle worried that he might faint. But then it was over, she was pulled from his arms, laid down, and a curtain was up. Everything was happening so fast, and she could do nothing but surrender.

Rumplestiltskin was seated to her right, and he was silent, and she watched him as she tried to distract herself from the pressure and the tugging she felt in her lower body. There was no pain, but it was not easy, the sensations of the operation were very uncomfortable, and she just kept her eyes locked with his.

“Okay, Belle, it’s going to feel like there’s an elephant on your chest,” Dr. Whale called from the other side of the curtain.

Rumple started, standing up to see what could possibly be happening that would feel like an elephant, then quickly sat back down, even paler than before, but this time with a tinge of green pallor to his skin.

“Oh, shit,” he said, quietly.

Just at that moment Belle gasped, the pressure on her chest so great she was sure she would pass out, but then a high-pitched cry pierced through the room, the cry of their baby, and they both began crying too, as the nurse called out to them from the other side of the room.

“Seven pounds, thirteen ounces,” she said, over the baby’s screams of protest. “A healthy baby girl!”

Dr. Whale looked over the curtain. “Congratulations, Belle, you did it! She is here!” he said, and Belle could see the smile in his eyes, though her own eyes were clouded with tears. “I’m just going to get you closed up then we will take you to recovery,” he said.

Belle nodded as the tears flowed. She turned her head to look back at Rumple, but he was not there, the nurse had taken him to the side of the room, and Belle smiled and laughed to herself as she watched him turn to face her, their daughter in his arms, fat crocodile tears rolling down his cheeks, and a grin that reached all the way to his eyes.

“Belle, she’s so beautiful.” Rumple spoke so softly Belle could hardly hear him, but she didn’t miss the pride in his voice, the love already evident in his face, as he pulled the mask down to kiss his daughter for the first time.

“Oh, Rumple, we did it!” Belle cried tears of joy and love and exhaustion. “I wish I could hold her,” she said, but her arms were still strapped to the table, and she didn’t trust herself anyway, as complete exhaustion was beginning to take over.

“Here, sweetheart.” Rumple placed their daughter on Belle’s chest, on her side, and for a moment, the baby opened her eyes, a sleepy, hazy glance to her mother, and as she recognized Belle’s voice she quieted.

“Hi, Rose.” Belle smiled at her daughter.

“Rose,” Rumplestiltskin agreed, and leaned down to kiss Belle on the lips, a tender kiss, full of joy and hope, and a love that had never been so true.

 

THE END


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an anonymous TMI Tuesday ask, here is what happened when the Golds brought Rose home. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed so please excuse the mistakes.

“Okay, gentle, steady…” Rumple spoke quietly, as to not wake Rose as he and Belle worked in tandem to release the baby carrier for the car seat base and lift Rose out of the car. Asleep for the whole ride back to the Golds’ house, baby Rose barely stirred as Rumple pulled her from the rear passenger seat.

“Belle, just wait for me here. I will put Rose inside then come back to help you up the steps,” he instructed, not wanting his wife to pull any stitches or staples from her c-section incision.

“Rumple, I can handle a few steps,” Belle chided, but watching the Dark One fuss about a baby and a new mother was endearing, and Belle couldn’t help but feel special when he made such a fuss over the two of them.

“Nonsense, Belle. Those are steep steps, and I want to help you,’ he replied, placing a peck on her cheek as he strode inside quickly to get Rose out of the sun.

Patiently, Belle waited, and as she did, she looked over the mansion. It was still strange to her, for before everything happened she had only lived here a matter of months, and the large house certainly didn’t feel like home to her.

_Maybe that will change now_ , she thought, taking a deep breath. Since their reconciliation at the hospital, both Belle and Rumplestiltskin had renewed hope for the future. Her three days’ stay in the maternity ward had provided them some time to reconnect, to talk without interference from others. No monsters or magical crises had arisen, no curses had been cast.

In fact, Belle felt as though the last three days had been the happiest of her life. She had Rumple back, and they had Rose. She had her own little family, and she was determined to make it work. Rumple opened the front door again, and hurried down the steps to assist his wife. Supporting her with an arm around her waist and the other at her elbow, he slowly helped her up the steps and over the threshold of the mansion.

Belle was watching where she was walking - the nurses had warned her that any sudden movements could tear the fragile skin mending in her lower belly - but once they were inside she looked at Rumple to thank him, when something caught her eye.

Belle gasped as she looked around the room. Pink flowers filled every available space; vases full of roses, stargazer lilies, pink chrysanthemums, all arranged beautifully. Large foil balloons floated in the air above them, welcoming the baby girl and her mother with little dances in the drafty house.

“Oh, Rumple!” Belle exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement as she took in everything. “This is… beautiful,” she said, tears once again prickling her blue eyes. She had cried so many tears these past few days - but happy tears, tears of joy, and these were no exception.

“It’s perfect!” Belle exclaimed, throwing her arms around her husband. “Thank you so much!” Belle peppered kisses along Rumple’s cheek, finding his lips and planting a lingering kiss there. “Rose and I are so lucky to have you,” she said, smiling. Her eyes darted around the room, taking everything in.

“Oh!” Her face went slack as she looked over Rumplesiltskin’s shoulder, and she pulled away from him slightly, her eyes focused on the far corner of the room. There, in a dark corner adjacent to the breakfast area, stood the grandest baby crib she had ever seen.

Knowing she had seen it, Rumple took her hand and guided her to the crib.

“Gepett -er, Marco made it for us. I commissioned him even before you called for me at the hospital. It was always for our child,” he explained softly, as he placed Belle’s hand on the smooth mahogany wood of the post.

“Its- its gorgeous,” Belle said, amazed at the beauty of the carving, the fine workmanship of a master craftsman evident in every swirl and scroll etched into the fine wood. Shaking her head slightly, she gave Rumplestiltskin a quizzical look.

“Where would we have put this at Granny’s?” Belle asked, still in a haze of amazement at the lengths Rumple had gone to to welcome them home. She giggled a little, trying to imagine such a work of art at a place like Granny’s Diner.

“I was going to build you a house next.” Rumple explained, solemnly.

Belle sensed the melancholy that had seeped through Rumple’s happy countenance, and grabbed his upper arm, needing him to hear her next words.

“Well, lucky you, you’ll never have to do that,” she said, hugging him tight to her. Belle pressed her sore and tired body against his, trying to get as close as possible to him, hoping to squeeze out any lingering sadness from their time apart.

“I can’t get over it,” she said, stepping away and returning her attention to the crib. “Its just - so - well, I’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful,” she said.

“Well, except for our daughter,” Rumple quipped, his good humor returning.

The smile Belle flashed him at that lit up the entire house.

“Yes,” Belle agreed. “Except for her.”

A serene silence filled the room for a long moment, until Belle looked down into the deep crib, and pulled her next gift from the bottom.

Belle was speechless. Her eyes widened as her fingers gingerly stroked the baby blanket that she held.

The pale gold blanket had been spun and sewn by Rumplestiltskin himself. It shimmered in the low light of the room, and pooled like liquid in Belle’s arms. The fabric had been woven by some of the finest gold thread that Belle had ever seen, including in her life as a princess in the Enchanted Forest.

“You. _You made this_ ,” Belle whispered, unable to find her voice, so overcome with wonder she was at the blanket.

“Indeed,” Rumplestiltskin nodded, a rare look of pride stealing across his sharp features, softening them, and Belle understood she was seeing into his soul, to exactly who he had been before the Curse, to the man he truly was. Belle brought her trembling hand to his cheek, and caressed his face.

“I love you, Rumplestiltskin. Forever.”

As Belle raised up on her tiptoes to kiss him, Rose began to cry from her carrier. Belle couldn’t help but giggle in response.

“I think she’s hungry,” she said, and grabbed Rumple’s hand, leading him back to their daughter.


End file.
